Red Letters
by morning's-broken-angel
Summary: A drabble-y collection of letters from a number of different characters, in a number of different situations. All pairings, genres and aired episodes are considered fair game. SECOND: Bosco leaves a letter for Lisbon. Unrequited love and gallows humor.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This will be a drabble-y collection of letters. If they're on the show, the character is fair game. If the episode has been aired in the U.S., it's fair game. If they've exhibited any sort of chemistry at all, their romantic feelings are fair game. There's no rhyme or reason to the order of the letters, and whether they're humorous or angsty or tragic or familial is equally up in the air, but every chapter will get a tag at the top to let you know who, what, and if there's any spoilery bits.

Letter One: Lisbon

Response: Jane

Genre: Humor/Snark

* * *

Memorandum: For Distribution

Distribution: Homicide; RICO; Gang Activity Task Force; Serious Crimes; Vice; Traffic; Cyber Crimes; Administration; Accounting; Booking; Security; Janitorial; any other carbon-based life forms within the CBI building, including the ficus plants in the lobby

To whom it may concern:

Jane, a.k.a. Patrick Jane, that crazy psychic, the guy in the suit with the magic tricks, and Botticelli's Angel (yes, secretarial pool, I know what you call him), is **SUSPENDED**.

If any of you let him into the building, regardless of whether he tricked, charmed, coerced or slimeballed his way through your weak defenses, I will make your life miserable. If that's not possible, I'll at least have Cho follow you around and stare at you until you are unnerved to the point of tears. If _that_ doesn't work, I'm parking Rigsby in front of your refrigerators and encouraging Van Pelt to espouse the virtues of converting to Christianity, loudly, in your bullpens and offices. I will also personally invite every last one of your teenage daughters to stare fatuously at Jane and his stupid hair while I point out that it is every girl's duty to date at least one boy that will make her father wish he'd gotten that vasectomy a few decades earlier. Afterwards, I'll take them all out to a tattoo parlor. In Tijuana.

So while Special Agent in Charge Hightower claims that she won't "officially" suspend Jane for this latest stunt, I am making it PERFECTLY clear that I am suspending him in action, if not record. Keep him out of the building and away from me until Monday morning. If I see him before then, I assure you, you will all pay. Dearly.

_Teresa Lisbon_

Senior Agent, SCU

* * *

Memorandum: For Lisbon

Distribution: Just You

To she who is enraged:

That was quite the diatribe; I had Mary from Accounting photocopy it for me (I'm considering having it framed so I can show it off with as much pride as Agent Beecham shows that photo of his Springer Spaniel, Lady Schmoogle). I'm pleasantly surprised at your deadly sense of vengeance; your threats were adorable and perfectly formulated for maximum terror, though I can assure you that the ficus trees were perfectly innocent of my dastardly plot to re-enter the CBI building.

Your memo is definitely a keepsake, if for no other reason than I have finally well and truly angered you. I didn't think it could be done to this extent, at least not without being arrested for murdering Red John. Imagine my surprise. In any event, since you've already clearly elucidated your intention to break my nose if you see me, I took the liberty of checking the integrity of your home security system while you were so diligently working your shift at CBI. Really, Lisbon, your youngest brother's birthday is hardly a secure passcode; you ought to get that changed. Please enjoy the presents I left you. The strawberries in particular were hard to come by this time of year. Let's hear it for hot house gardeners, though.

_Patrick Jane_

Botticelli's Angel (I am rather fond of that one, actually)


	2. Chapter 2

Characters: Sam Bosco, Lisbon

Spoilers: Season Three, especially the events and aftermath of _Red John's Friends_

Genre: Unrequited love, angst and a good dose of Bosco-brand gallows humor

* * *

Dearest Teresa,

I asked the lawyer handling my will to make sure this letter got to you. I rewrite it every year or so, so this should be a pretty recent update. Mandy doesn't know about it, so don't worry. I just had a few things I had to get off my chest, even if it's after I'm dead. On the up side, dead means I can't be embarrassed, so… hey, cut a guy some slack. If I can't crack bad jokes when I'm dead, then there's no justice in this universe. And don't cry. I never want to make you cry, because I remember how puffy your eyes got that one time on the Marquez case back when you were a rookie. Man, that was a bad look for you. Seriously. Smiles only, kiddo.

One: I kind of love you. I have for about fifteen years now, so this confession might be a little late. Then again, you're a smart girl. I'm sure you figured it out by now. I know I'm not great at the whole flirting thing, so what I thought were subtle hints were probably hit-you-on-the-head A-bombs. Still. I wasn't ever going to do something drastic, like leave Mandy and the kids to fling myself at your feet in the precinct to spout stupid love poetry, but it doesn't mean I love you any less. I hope you realize that you deserve a guy that can give you everything, not just some schmuck with family drama like me. I hope you find him someday.

Two: If you're going to find that guy, you gotta date. For God's sake, kid, I can count your dates in the last fifteen years on fingers and toes. I mean, unless you lead some secret double life. Which I doubt, but it'd be a fun fantasy. Something to occupy my mind during long, boring stakeouts. But you always knew I was kind of a lech.

Three: Stay away from Jane. That guy is BAD NEWS. Yeah, like the capslock kind. I don't know what kind of crap he whispers in your ear to make you accept him as part of your team, but he's the worst kind of cowboy, the kind that's gonna get you or some innocent bystander killed. I hate guys like him, guys that ride along on their charm thinking their shit don't stink. Anyways, yeah. I know you're all about saving people like they're birds with broken wings, but trust me- that bird is a freaking predator, and he'll rip you to shreds just when you think you've got him tamed. Don't ever turn your back on him and for God's sake, don't fall for his charming bullshit. He's just behind me on the list of guys you should never date/kiss/hug/love/sleep with.

Four (and finally): I'm sorry to say goodbye this way. Chances are I had a heart attack from eating fast food on the sly all the time, or stroked out from yelling at Jane for screwing with regulations, or some other equally boring and uninteresting death. I'm kind of hoping it was more dramatic than that- maybe a shootout with a suspect, or a bombing, or something else fun. You know, something my kids can tell their kids about. Grandpa was a hero. See, this is his posthumous service award for conspicuous bravery. Something cool. But however I croaked, I hope I was able to say goodbye to you in person, and that I drummed up the guts to tell you that I love you.

I love you, Teresa. Take care of yourself, kid, and stay out of trouble.

Always yours,

Sam


End file.
